Snowball Fight
by GreenEyesGreySkies
Summary: Draco and Harry have a snowball fight. Who will win? Silliness. Hogwarts AU.


**drarry prompted by otp-is-best-served-gay**

**prompt: **_awkward first kiss_

**Author's Note: A short drabble off the top of my head while I sat in the car one day. Pure silliness.**

**Disclaimer: These characters aren't my creations. Sigh.**

_~Snowball Fight~_

"You're a _bastard_, Harry Potter!" Draco screamed.

He scowled and brushed the icy snow off of his coat sleeves and collar while Potter stood a little ways away from him, laughing uncontrollably. In fact, the Gryffindor was laughing so hard that any wrong movement could land him headfirst into the frozen lake before them. Draco glared at him. Git. If Potter did happen to fall in, Draco wouldn't feel sorry at all since Potter wasn't the one who currently had snow in places that it _should never be_. Merlin, it was fucking cold!

"Rule number one: never let your guard down around the enemy," Potter remarked to no one in particular after he had finished laughing. That elicited another scowl from Draco. "What? Don't look at me like that," Potter insisted. "You've got to learn how to properly participate if you want to win a snowball fight."

"I know how to bloody participate," Draco grumbled.

Potter grinned knowingly. "Look, I'm feeling generous today," he said. "How 'bout I teach you a few tricks? And since you said that you've never played in the snow before, you could use the help... Blasphemy, by the way. Who hasn't played in the snow before?"

Draco sniffed. "Some of us have better things to do than running around throwing ice at one another," he snapped.

Potter rolled his eyes and bent down, patting the ground with one hand as if to prove a point. Then he waved the same hand over Draco's head in a teasing manner. "You're a fucking liar. You never have anything better to do. Look! The snow is lovely."

Draco sneered at him. "I do so have things to do," he responded gruffly, before swatting Potter's hand from his head. "Get that stuff away from me."

Potter gave him a mischievous look. "I bet the snow would look even lovelier in your hair."

Draco gasped. "Don't you fucking dare, Potter! I will kill you!"

"I don't know... I think it'd be pretty..."

"Get away from me!"

Potter smiled in an eerily catlike manner, and before Draco could react, Potter had pounced at him with uncharacteristic grace and agility. Draco shrieked and ducked his head, but he wasn't fast enough. He could already feel the coldness dripping down his scalp. It was all _wet_. Draco yelped. Potter had actually smashed dirty, frozen ground-water onto Draco's head! And now, his immaculate, two-hours-in-the-loo blond hair was damp and tousled and limp. Draco's eye began to twitch without consent. Potter took one look at him and started to guffaw again. Draco sent him a sharp, murderous glare.

"Harry James Potter," he shouted, causing the other boy to look at him with slight surprise. "You are going to pay for that!"

"Oh?" Potter asked, a hint of a smirk on his face now. "I'd like to see you try."

Draco growled. "Yeah, see me try _this_!"

Draco reached down and scooped up a few handfuls of snow with a white-hot vengeance. In his haste, he'd almost forgotten that he could have easily used his wand, but somehow, gathering the snow in his palms felt much more satisfying. He wanted to bask in the glory of seeing the icy snow make contact with the back of Potter's head, wanted the feeling of victory as the frozen slush spread without mercy. By Draco's own hands. Yes, Potter was going to regret ever messing with Draco Malfoy. Draco sprang back up, now alive with passion and war, but Potter was nowhere to be found. Draco frowned. What the hell?

"Pot—?"

_Plish!_

Draco howled at the impact of a large snowball hitting him square in the back. Holy Mother of Merlin! How had Potter gotten away so fast? Draco grit his teeth, trying not to seethe and blow another famous Malfoy fuse. Potter was good, of course he was. But Draco would be better. There was a slight chuckle from behind him.

"I'm giving you your lesson," Potter called out arrogantly.

"I'll give _you_ a lesson!" Draco roared, now whirling around and launching a few of his own snowballs with renewed vigor. "Take that, you little shit!" Potter ducked and ran, all the while laughing. Draco chased after him, still screaming. "And that! And fucking _that_!"

Before Draco knew it, their little game had turned into a full blown battle. A survival of the fittest, to say the least. The competition between them had become fierce and unrelenting; the two of them jumping back and forth to create barriers and stashes and piles of their 'weapon' to use against one another. Draco must have made at least ten walls of snow to protect himself in various areas of the bank, and Potter must have made twice as many in the same time. Damn it, he was good. Draco narrowed his eyes and scanned the empty field. To admit that Potter was right was irritating, but the fight was a thrill. It was such a thrill. Draco could almost hear his heart pumping through his ears.

Draco had never dared to play like this as a child, knowing that his parents would highly disapprove of such tomfoolery, and Potter knew that. Potter had essentially grown up with Draco, so of course he'd know. It was certainly why Potter had initiated this whole snowball fight business in the first place, with the further knowledge that Draco just couldn't resist a challenge from him. Well, Potter was certainly correct. It was a fresh reminder to Draco that this was Hogwarts, not the Manor, and this was Potter, not his parents. Draco scanned the field again and crouched.

So.

It was on. Potter was going down.

**~x~**

Thirty minutes and a few hundred snowballs later, Draco was hidden behind a tree, gripping another ball of flakes tightly in his grasp. His eyes darted this way and that, watching the area with suspicion... Potter had been mysteriously missing for a minute now. Curious. Draco leaned up against the tree and pushed his hair from his eyes with one soppy mittened hand. His hair, boots, and outer clothing were all soaking wet, and he was rather certain that his face was blotchier than it had been the day he was born, but he didn't care. He had a mission and he wasn't going to give it up, so long as his name was still Malfoy and Potter was still a deranged idiot. Draco peered into the distance. Although said deranged idiot was still nowhere in sight. Where the hell could he have—

_Swish!_

The sound of snow fizzing by, dangerously close to Draco's ear, missed him by a mere finger's length. Draco whirled around, bewildered and annoyed. How was Potter doing that? "Potter!" he yelled. "You better not be using that damned cloak. I know you brought it out today. That's cheating!"

A second later, Potter lunged at him out of nowhere and tackled him to the ground.

"I didn't need the cloak," Potter hissed, a snowball positioned in his hand, his eyes gleaming with mischief and finality. "I'm just naturally sneaky. And I've got you now. Say your last words, Malfoy."

"Wait," Draco burst out. Potter waited, miraculously.

Draco paused, attempting to think on his feet (not literally). Okay, so Potter was clearly quicker and better at this game than he was. But... Draco was _smarter _than Potter. He bit his lip. What would buy him time? What would cause a distraction for Potter? Draco began to smirk. Well, it was obvious: he had to freak the Gryffindor out. And really, there was only one way to do that. Without stopping to think of the consequences, Draco grabbed the back of Potter's neck with his drenched mittens and yanked him down, smashing their noses together and causing Potter to yelp loudly. Ow, fuck! Draco immediately let go of Potter and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Bad plan.

"Ow! What the _hell_?" Potter shrieked, clutching his own face. "What are you trying to do, take my eye out?"

Draco frowned and grumbled under his breath. Well, okay, he knew that it had been a bad attempt, but he didn't think it had been _that_ bad. Come on! Potter just had to loosen up. It wasn't as if Draco was a bad kisser or anything, because he most certainly wasn't. Potter had just moved wrongly, that was all. Of course, he hadn't been expecting it, but still... Draco scowled. He would show Potter! Draco Malfoy was a fantastic kisser!

Ignoring Potter's obnoxious cries, Draco craned his neck forward and pressed his mouth to Potter's with what he hoped was gentleness and ease. But the result was exactly the opposite; they fumbled around for a while, their tongues in confused disarray—Potter tasted of laughter and sugar quills—and it was as if Potter hadn't a clue that Draco was trying to kiss him. Draco made a noise of annoyance. What did Potter think they were doing, wrestling? Ugh, this was awful. Draco concluded that it was all Potter's fault. It always was. The Gryffindor was such a dense prat.

Suddenly, Potter froze mid-snog, as if he were just realising what was going on. Finally. There was the panic. And there was Draco's chance as well. He started to relax, snaking his arm around Potter's torso and bringing him closer, causing their bodies to mold together as they lay there. His mouth moved with languid precision now, as if he had decided to turn it on and off just like that. There was _heat_. Unexpectedly, Potter melted on the spot, unlike the snow under their backs, and pushed himself wholeheartedly into the kiss. Draco's eyes shot open in shock. Gods, that was good_. _Where the hell had Potter learned that? He wasn't supposed to be _enjoying_ it! Now Draco felt as if a hundred million snowballs were being hurled at his heart, causing it to pound faster and faster and harder and harder. It was insane. Surreal. Potter's lips felt like silk and tasted like honey. They were warm and insistent and delicious and wonderful. Draco wanted to pass out. Holy shit, he was_ kissing_ Harry Potter!

Finally, Potter pulled away, his arms now slack at Draco's side, snowball long forgotten. Draco blinked a couple of times; his head was spinning and his vision clouded. Except he could see stars. Emerald stars. Whoa. Now _that_ was a fucking fantastic kiss! Who would've guessed Potter had had in it him? Draco wanted to smirk, nevertheless. At least he could remain confident in his own kissing abilities... if Potter's glazed expression was any indication of merit.

"Potter?" Draco asked, breaking the silence.

Still dazed. "Hmm?" Potter answered.

Draco smiled. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to tell you..." he purred, bringing one hand up to Potter's face and caressing it lightly before letting his arm fall on the icy ground beside him. Potter's eyes slid shut and he took a large gulp of air. Draco watched with fascination as his Adam's apple bobbed frantically.

"Tell me what?" Potter asked, belatedly.

Draco brought his hand up and smiled again. "Rule number one," he announced calmly. Potter's eyes snapped open and he gasped. Draco smirked evilly. "Never let your guard down around the enemy, Potter!"

_PLOP!_

A large pile of snow tumbled onto Potter's surprised face, and Draco flung a few more baby handfuls of snow over the Gryffindor, laughing giddily. Ha ha! Revenge was sweet! He pushed himself off the ground and grinned. The process hadn't been half bad either.

Potter looked a mixed of livid, embarrassed, and amused all at the same time. He wiped the snow off of his frozen face with his sleeve, looking so piteous that even Draco had to sympathise and hold out a hand to help the sap off of the ground. As he yanked Potter up, however, he pulled him close and whispered in his ear.

"You thought you could teach me something, Potter?" he scoffed. "Amateur."

Potter was still for a moment. Then he cupped Draco's chin and kissed him full on the mouth again. "You're a _bastard_, Draco Malfoy," he murmured, his words muffled by Draco's lips. Silk and honey. Draco felt his cheeks heat up. Well, if Potter wanted to snog again, Draco wasn't going to stop him. But first, more gloating.

"Damn straight," he remarked. "_That's_ how you win a snowball fight, by the way, Potter. Now how 'bout I teach you a few other... tricks?"


End file.
